


Life, After

by elesseto



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elesseto/pseuds/elesseto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have gone their separate ways, yes. They live their lives as they know how to. And, occasionally, they come back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life, After

The three strangers came into town within hours of one another. It was remarked upon by all the little old gossips at the bakery as they passed, all three stopping and asking directions, all three remarkably different men.

–Did anyone know Madame Baudin? -Ah, yes,  _monsieur_ , she lives on Rue Beaumont. -Could you point me in the right direction? 

The first young man was a lanky, very tall redhead, with a dusty traveling cloak, a small bag, and wearing a strange earring from one ear: a braided rope closed with metal studs. His eyes did not look particularly honest, but he greeted the old ladies warmly and made them chuckle as he complimented their knitting. When they asked how he knew Madame Baudin, he just smiled softly and said they were friends who went back a long time. He left in some hurry, a new bounce in his weary steps as he headed down the lane.

–What a cheerful young man. -Ah,  _mon cher_ , but did you see his eyes? A closed soul, that one. -Much like Madame Baudin, you know.

The second young man could not have been more different. He looked like he was from the East, like Madame Baudin, but the old ladies could not be sure where, exactly, and he wore his beautiful black hair down to a ridiculous length. His beautiful face set one old lady’s heart aflutter, as if she were a young, inexperienced child with her first crush. It ended the longer he stood with them. When he greeted them, it was with a clear effort toward civility, and he was straight to the point. When they asked him how he knew Madame Baudin, he said only that they had been friends and then bowed as he left them, walking purposefully down the lane.

–That one, friends with Madame Baudin? Why, they couldn’t be more different! -Ah, but  _mon cher_ , Madame Baudin can be cold, too.

The third young man was momentarily mistaken for old. His stark white hair was mismatched with his straight back and smooth, handsome features, marred by the scar running down his face. He greeted the ladies with a smile tinged with sadness and an uncommon politeness in one so young. When one lady complained of her walk back home that night, he offered to help her with unassuming charm. When they asked him how he knew Madame Baudin, he said they were old friends and promised to say hello on their behalf as he left, wandering unhurriedly down the lane.

–How strange, how sad that one is. –He has the eyes of one who’s seen so much. -Ah, but  _mon cher_ , so does Madame Baudin. 

 

xxx

 

It had been three years since they last met up. Longer since the war ended. One thing or another would always pop up: Lavi was in South America. Allen couldn’t be reached. Kanda was sick again. Lenalee was in China, visiting Bak and the rest of the Asian HQ folks who were still around.

Lavi didn’t technically go by that name anymore; after all, he’d inherited Bookman’s title, position, and identifying body jewelry, and had his work to keep him busy. The close of the century had been busy for him. Between new skirmishes and increasingly-confusing reasons to fight them, he’d finally forgiven his old mentor for his secrets, but he still ignored several of the old rules he found no use for. Such as the no-attachments rule. He went by Bookman, yes, but he answered his letters to the others as Lavi.

He arrived at Lenalee’s home first, knocking at the door and surprised by the cry of a child from inside. He knew it had been a while, but surely she would have mentioned–

The door opened and a small, sticky child run straight into his legs, nearly bowling him over. Catching his balance, and grabbing the child, he stumbled and looked up to see Lenalee Lee for the first time in three years.

“Rene, _c’est assez_!” she scolded, looking at the little boy Lavi was holding in place, his face and hands sticky with marmalade. “ _Apologize cette minute!_ ”

The little boy and Lavi looked at each other, and then mumbled, “ _Je m’excuse_ ,” to him. Lavi smiled down at the boy. 

“ _Accepté_ ,” he said, letting the boy go. Rene ran back inside the house and Lavi looked up at Lenelee, meeting her eyes.

She looked like a young woman now, not a girl. She wore a flour-dusted apron over simple clothes, a white blouse and loose linen pants, her long hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her face had lost its baby fat, her hips had filled out further. It was her eyes, however, that caught his attention longest. She was guarded for only a moment, before warmth and tears filled her vision and they both stepped forward and hugged. 

Lavi held her for a long moment, arms enclosed tightly, remembering the last time he’d held her like this. 

She squeezed him one last time before stepping back, and he reluctantly let her step back, his hands stopping to enclose around hers and not letting go.  

“I’m sorry about Rene,” she said, sniffing, letting go to wipe her eyes. “Oh, but you look so different, Lavi! You’re so tall now.”

Lavi chuckled. “It’s not a bad different, is it?”

“Well, you stopped sending pictures to me, so can you really be surprised?” She stepped back, her hands slipping out of his. He let his arms fall to his side. “Come in, I’m making lunch.”

“Are Allen or Kanda here yet?”

“You’re the first. Rene,  _lave t'es mains_ ,” she added to the little boy. Lavi watched the little boy as he followed Lenalee into her kitchen. 

Her home was warm and bright and tidy, the windows thrown open for the warm summer day. He looked up and saw a sky light propped open with a wooden spoon, and breathed in the air and the scent of baking bread. The little boy hopped up onto a stool and washed his hands and face at the sink, Lenalee handing him a towel to dry. Then he was off, running outside to the garden. Through the open door, Lavi glimpsed purple and yellow flowers, and he could smell lilacs. 

“Your house is beautiful.”

Lenalee beamed as she replied, “Thank you. Make yourself at home.”

Lavi took a seat at the table and Lenalee brought him a coffee pot, pouring him a drink. “There’s milk over there if you want.”

Rene came running into the room, grabbed a piece of cheese from the table, and scampered back outside. 

Lavi couldn’t hold back his curiosity any more. “Is he yours?”

Lenalee shook her head. “No. I’m watching him for my neighbor. Rene’s a good boy, just typically energetic.” She sat down across from Lavi and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her eyes glinted with amusement as she drank. “Did you think I wouldn’t tell you I had a son?”

Lavi blushed and drank his coffee, not looking at her.

She laughed, full and bright, filling the space. “So," she said, still smiling at him, "anything new happen since your last letter?”

Lavi was telling her about a bad day in Malta involving a Greek sailor and a Turkish fisherman when there was a knock at the door. Lenalee rose to her feet, Lavi following at a distance, and he heard her exclaim, “Kanda!” before he turned the corner. 

The grumpy ex-swordsman stood in the door and seemed to be begrudgingly accepting Lenalee’s hug, returning it stiffly. He looked much the same as before–but his cheekbones had become more defined, and his eyes were softer, somehow, and because of it and a few years’ time he was more striking than ever. Lavi admired the beauty of his grumpy comrade and then grinned at him in the wide, annoying way he used to whenever he wanted to torment the boy.

Kanda saw that smile and scowled. “Great, the rabbit’s here,” he grumbled.

“Oh come on, Yu, you know you missed me,” Lavi teased, and the familiarity of the tone did something strange to his insides. He hadn’t spoken to anyone like this in years. He flashed back a second to eighteen, to before the Noah captured him. 

Kanda was released by Lenalee and Lavi leaned against the doorjamb, smiled fixed as he counted,  _1 door, 2 friends, 15 windows, 2 coffee cups_ , itemizing Lenalee’s house in his head until his heart stuttered to normal pace. 

Kanda and Lenalee didn’t comment on how Lavi had frozen on them, and Lenalee poured Kanda a cup of tea, knowing he hated coffee.

Kanda dug around in his bag and pulled out a jam jar, handing it to Lenalee silently. She smiled, taking the jar of honey and saying, “This is from your hive, right?”

He nodded. “I had some extra this year. Figured you might like it.” It was a lame excuse, but Kanda had always needed those to do something nice.

Lenalee set the jar on the table and opened the oven, checking her bread. “When this is ready, we can try the honey out,” she said, shutting the door. “I’m excited; this is the first thing from your garden you’ve given me.”

“Really?” Lavi asked Kanda. “Kinda rude, Yu.”

“Where can I put my stuff?” Kanda asked, ignoring Lavi.

“Of course, you too Lavi, I’ll show your your rooms," Lenalee said, walking toward the stairs by the back door. "You’ll be doubling up, but that can’t be helped. I hope that’s okay.”

Kanda grumbled under his breath and Lavi laughed. “I don’t snore, Yu.”

“Yes you do,” Kanda snapped. “I’ve heard trains passing by that are quieter than you.”

“He has a point,” Lenalee said with a grin.

“Not you too!” Lavi whined, and Lenalee led them upstairs into a narrow hallway. Lavi caught a glimpse of a bedroom with books and papers strewn about in an unorganized mess, before Lenalee led them past to a much neater room with twin beds inside. Kanda picked the bed by the door and Lavi was left with the one by the window, which he was perfectly fine with. He’d have to convince Kanda to let him keep it open at night, but that argument could wait.

He really liked this place. It was so open here, so bright. He loved places like this.

As he followed Kanda back downstairs, he saw that the bedroom he’d peeked into earlier was closed.

“Want to see the garden, Kanda?” Lenalee offered.

He nodded, perking up enthusiastically as he followed Lenalee outside. Soon they were off, talking about plants and Lenalee’s plans for the fall, Kanda speaking more than Lavi had ever heard him do so. Lavi stood just outside the door, breathing in the scents of flowers and itemizing it all. This time, it was just for memory’s sake.

He stayed behind as Kanda and Lenalee walked around her garden, pulling out his notebook and a pencil. He squatted against the wall and started sketching a nearby bunch of hyacinths, next to his last log entry.

He thought he imagined the knock at the door. When it continued more insistently, he rose from his seat against the wall, groaning as pins and needles raced up his legs, and answered the door.

Allen stared up at him, smiled slightly, and said, “Hello Lavi.”

Lavi blinked and then let the young man in.

He was taller, but still terribly thin. As he walked inside, Lavi saw the rolled up sleeve of his coat, and the way Allen had adjusted for the balance as he set his bag down and rolled the jacket off in one smooth motion. Underneath, his left sleeve was rolled and pinned to his shirt to stop it from flopping about. Allen wasn’t wearing a tie, either. His hair was cut short and looked to have been shoved out of his face with his hand. There were bags under his eyes and the skin was stretched tight over his face, like he hadn’t eaten well in some time.

“Is Lenalee in?” he asked.

“She’s with Kanda in the garden. I’ll go find her.”

“So I’m last?” Allen said, chuckling. “Oh, Kanda’s gonna give me shit for that.”

Lavi chuckled.

The sadness came back to him as Allen looked around. It hadn’t really left, even when he was smiling. “Do I smell baking bread?”

Lenalee and Kanda came in just then, and when she saw Allen she slammed down the irises she’d collected and pulled Allen into a tight hug. He returned it, head burrowing into her shoulder. Kanda and Lavi waited silently as the pair exchanged soft hellos and I missed you’s. At last, Lenalee pulled back and asked wetly, “Who’s ready to eat? I’ll just go find Rene.”

“I’ll do it,” Lavi offered, and stepped out to look for Lenalee’s little charge.

*

They talked all afternoon. Or rather, Lavi and Lenalee talked. Allen chimed in when someone addressed him directly, and Kanda spoke when he felt like it, content to just sit back and listen.

Lenalee put Rene to bed after a simple but delicious dinner. Lenalee was surprised she had leftovers, but Allen’s appetite was no longer what it had once been.

“No Innocence,” he shrugged when she mentioned it. “Let me tell you, though, I’ve really cut my costs these days, far as food goes.”

Lavi’s hand rested on his thigh, but he didn’t really expect to feel the hammer there. Kanda’s fingers flexed, just a moment, gripping an invisible handle. Lenalee's bare feet flexed, the old scars stretching as her ankles spun.

“Does anyone want some coffee?” Lenalee asked. 

“Do you have anything stronger?” Allen replied.

She set out a bottle of whiskey on the table and four glasses. Allen poured himself a generous serving; Kanda mostly swirled his liquor around, not drinking. Lavi left the glass sitting empty on the table, staring at nothing. Lenalee sipped slowly, savoring the flavor.

*

“I’m down the hall if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Lenalee. Good night.”

“Good night, Allen.”

Lenalee shut the door gently, and sighed, her whole body slumping. She turned to go and started when she saw Lavi a few feet away, watching.

“Do you need something?”

“No. I’m not tired. Do you mind if I stay with you?”

Lenalee hesitated. “Of course not.”

She walked to the closed door and opened it, stepping carefully around her piles. Lavi followed, navigating the mess and wondering how she ever managed to keep up with it.

“Just move that stuff,” she said, motioning at the chair. “Go ahead, make yourself comfortable.”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Lenalee shifted some papers around before lighting the lamp and settling in behind the desk.

Lavi pushed the papers around, reading by the dim light. “What is all this?”

“Everything I could save,” she replied. “What wasn’t burned or buried.”

Lavi nodded. He saw a few lists, several pencil marks. “Why did you stay?” he asked at last.

She looked up from her work. “In France?”

“No, here, in this village.”

She looked back down, but her posture had stiffened and her voice was clipped as she replied, “This is my home. It’s where I need to be.”

“Lenalee…”

She looked up at him, scrutinizing him. “Why did you leave?”

He broke eye contact, looking around the room again. “France?”

“No. Not France.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t look at her.

After some time, she sighed, a long, disappointed sound.

“Someone should be here to make sure they’re not forgotten,” she said, softly. Lavi glanced at her with mixed sympathy and uncertainty.

“I know,” she said, catching the look in his eye. “But if anyone should ever come looking, I’m going to make sure everything we did, everyone who fought for it…that it’s known for anyone who cares to look.”

Lavi laid his hands on the papers, pushing them, reading down the names. “Does it help?”

Her tone was subdued as she replied, “Sometimes.”

He flicked through the papers, walking around the mess slowly. Lenalee didn’t stop him. As he paused by the window, he noticed a ceramic jar on the sill, with little dishes of food and the ashes of incense.

Lenalee looked up from her work when she smelled the sulfur of a struck match, and watched in silence as Lavi lit the tip of an incense stick before blowing it out. Setting it carefully in place, he folded his hands together a moment, head bowed.

His eyes met hers for a moment when he turned away.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He nodded.

“Good night, Lavi,” she continued quietly.

Lavi nodded again. “Yeah…good night, Lenalee.”

When he shut the door behind him, Lenalee cupped her head in her hands and just breathed.

 

xxx

 

_Two days later_

They got up before dawn, put on their overcoats, and trekked toward the ferry as the gas lanterns were being lit and the fishermen were coming in with the morning catch. Lenalee greeted the ferryman with a smile and bag of croissants, and then they were off.

The ferryman tried to talk with the group, but the four were silent, distant: lost in their own thoughts. He observed them—a strange gathering, he thought. Then he went back to work rowing the boat.

The island was surrounded by a thick fog, and the morning was unseasonably cool. The ferryman navigated the coast carefully, watching for rocks, looking out for the dock. He finally found it on the north side of the island, facing the sea, and shivered at the strange shapes in the mist. Huge, bulbous masses floating like dead fish; large, thin rods crashed into the rocks; a lingering scent of rotten wood and organic decay.  

His passengers got off the boat in silence and Lenalee asked him to come back that afternoon. As he rowed off, he saw the four start off into the interior of the woods, and rowed a bit faster.

If they wanted to spend the day on a haunted island, that was none of his business.

*

What hadn’t been destroyed in the final battle was decaying with time and rain. The forest was retaking the castle: grass here, moss-covered stone there, little trees sprouting everywhere. Lenalee led the way, having been back a half dozen times. Kanda followed her closely, looking around, expression impassive. Time had not increased his love of the Order, and seeing it in ruin didn’t stir any uncharacteristic sentimentality for bygone days.

Lavi followed them a little ways away, itemizing in his head, flexing his fingers. He shoved his hands further into his pockets and climbed over fallen walls carefully, clenching his jaw.

Allen lingered, staring silently at the ruins, his expression distant, tight, as he allowed himself to remember; to dwell. Lenalee called his name three times before he noticed.

He joined them at the center of the church, where sections of the wall still stood. Gothic lines arched high into the air, and Allen could see gaps where the old Rose window had once been. Other crumbling bits of wall around them hinted at the cross-shaped sanctuary, but only if you knew to look for it.

Lenalee knelt in from of a protected shrine, the only intact structure here. In silence she placed flowers, fruits, and sticks of incense in front, lighting them. Allen noticed that not one slice of Christianity touched the spot, save what was around them. Instead, carved into the wooden alter was a heart.

Lavi knelt beside her, reaching out and brushing his fingers over the symbol, tears tracking down an otherwise blank face. He reached into his coat pocket and lay down a complex braid of leather, ended with metal studs, then stood and walked away, toward the steps leading outside of the church, seeking.

Kanda didn’t kneel, didn’t leave an offering. He stood before the alter, staring down at it silently. He had already done his duty to the dead. He didn’t owe them more. Living was enough.

Allen sat down, pulling out a notebook and making himself comfortable. Opening it in his lap, he began to read.

“Your father misses you,” he said softly. “He says he wishes he hadn’t pushed you so hard to inherit the fighting school. His grandson is named after you, and he loves to cook, too. He would give anything to try your homemade _nuea ping_ again.” Allen paused, clearing his throat. “He was proud of you, Jerry.”

He flipped the page.

“Sydney’s really grown since you were last there. Your sister’s moved from Melbourne and her son is sixteen now. He wants to join the navy, but she wants him to study for university. They’ve been fighting about it for months. She thinks if you were here you’d convince him that three more years wouldn’t hurt his chances either way.” He paused. “She spread your ashes over the Pacific, says you loved the sea. She misses you, Reever. She was so proud to know you.”

He flipped the page.

He cleared his throat several times, wiping at his face. “There’s a shop..." He paused, clearing his throat. "There's a shop in your old hometown where your clock was put to rest. You’d be embarrassed to know the story they have about you—about a klutz of a girl who saved the world despite her many failures. They tell each other, _Be like Miranda. She never gave up, she not stopped trying. Be strong like Miranda.”_ Allen sniffed, wiped at his chin. “They know your story now. They are so, so proud.”

He flipped the page.

*

On the other side of the island they had a picnic lunch.

“Why did you pick Baudin?”

“I needed a new name; something local that would fit in better. People in the village assume I’m a widow, and I’ve never corrected them. It makes me living alone a little easier to explain.” She smiled slightly, recalling some private memory.  

“Does it mean anything?”

“Comes from 'Baudouin.' It’s Germanic.” Lenalee paused to drink her tea. “Means ‘brave.’”

“It’s a good name.”

*

“I keep telling this kid to buzz off, but he comes by every day and pesters me anyway. He’s invited me out drinking more times than I can count.”

“Wow, only twice?”

“Shove it, beansprout.”

“Are you every going to come up with a different insult?”

“The worst part is,” Kanda plowed on, ignoring Allen’s smirk, “his mother keeps stopping by and giving me pie, and _then_ she tried to set me up with her daughter. Fucking busy-bodies.”

After their laughter subsided, Lavi asked, “So what did you do?”

Kanda scowled. “I built a taller fence.”

*

“So this guy is standing here, trying to demand a back pay of fifteen years’ worth of interest and I’m wondering how the hell I’m going to get out of this one when this lady appears, out of nowhere, and hands him a check with not just the initial debt and interest, but an extra ten thousand on top of that!”

“What did she want in return?”

“I played for the house at her casino for four months until the Italian government shut her down. Says it was the most money she ever made. She still sends me cards, asking me to work for her in New York.”

“What did you get out of it?”

“A cleared IOU with the mob and four months of the best pasta I’ve ever had. What more could you ask for?”

*

The ferryman collected the group that afternoon, almost surprised to see them at all. He marveled silently at the change in the enigmatic Madame Baudin and her guests. They were a lighter, cheery group, bantering back and forth, the weariness and tension from the morning a memory.

 _Maybe,_ the ferryman thought as they docked back at the mainland _, they left ghosts with the others on the island._

 

xxx

 

_One day later_

“Are you going to stay here the rest of your life?”

Lenalee looked up at Lavi leaning against the doorjamb, looking at her solemnly. “Are you going to run away the rest of yours?” she replied evenly.

He stepped into the room, shutting the door softly behind him. When he turned back he said, in a kind of calm, controlled voice, “My work is important.”

Lenalee gestured with her pen. “So is mine.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be cooped up here with the rest of the corpses.”

“What are you saying, Lavi?” she said coolly.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing, it’s…nothing.”

“You could write me back, if you think I need time with the living.”

Lavi heaved a sigh and pushed some papers out of a chair, plopping down. It was an old argument and he didn’t have the energy for it right now.

Lenalee looked back down at her paper, trying to find where she’d left off. “Where are Allen and Kanda?”

“Catching up. Figured I’d give them some time alone.”

Lenalee nodded, and put down her pen to fix the lamp, brightening it. She didn’t resume writing, though, instead staring at Lavi pensively. He met her gaze and stared back, undisturbed by her study of him. “Do you sleep better?” she asked softly.

“A bit.”

“Nightmares?”

“Only once in a while. You?”

“Just a few.”

“Maybe we’d sleep better together.”

A pause. “Maybe.”

A longer pause. “You could come with me.”

She smiled softly. “You could stay.”

“You know I can’t.”

Her smile softened to sadness, and she reached for his hand. He took it, grasping it gently, and the look in his eyes said he understood why she was about to say what she did.

“Neither can I.”

 

xxx

 

_A week later_

Allen had decided, and Kanda didn’t seem to mind as much as he pretended, that he was going to take some time and rest from traveling at Kanda’s place. Kanda said he knew a guy who would talk to Allen about work, and as for the rest, Lenalee decided the two could figure that out on their own.

Now Kanda and Allen were at the door, coats on, bags packed, bickering about the best way to get to Kanda’s house.

“You two are ridiculous,” Lenalee said, as she hugged Allen tightly and gave them both kisses on the cheek. “Be safe. Please write.”

Allen hugged Lavi and Kanda managed to put up with a hug for about five seconds before he started protesting that the stupid was rubbing off on him.

Allen and he could still be heard arguing about that as they turned down the lane. Lenalee watched them disappear out of sight, a sad, fond smile on her face. She turned to Lavi, who was pulling on his poncho and replacing the braided earring.

“You made sure you didn’t forget anything?”

“Double and triple-checked, ma’am,” he said, pausing to salute.

She laughed. “When’s your boat headed out?”

“In an hour.”

She opened her arms and they hugged, holding one another a moment.

“You know, if you ever need a break,” Lavi began.

“I’ll let you know.” She pulled back, breaking them apart. Her hand lingered in his. “Be safe. Don’t forget to write.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“And send me pictures again. I loved those.”

He laughed, and kissed her on the forehead. “I will.” He slipped his hand out from hers, and her arms fell at her side.

She watched him leave until he was out of sight, and then, like her boys, went back to life, after.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for DGM Secret Santa 2015 on tumblr and am still pretty proud of it. I've tweaked this for style and grammar but the story remains much the same as when I first published it. The prompt was: "a probable ending that could happen in the DGM world. happy or sad."
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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